


Don't Go Alone

by Yuliares



Series: ἦθος ἀνθρώπῳ δαίμων [4]
Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Gen, Gift Giving, Mending, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29166804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuliares/pseuds/Yuliares
Summary: Zagreus is touched to receive a gift from Thanatos… touched and alarmed, because how in theliteral underworldis he supposed to keep it in one piece amidst his never-ending gauntlet of battle, lava, and hellfire?
Series: ἦθος ἀνθρώπῳ δαίμων [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1613122
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Don't Go Alone

He won the fight, but just barely, with a long, jagged slash up his side as a painful memento. Zagreus prodded it carefully, hissing. Shallow, thankfully, though surface wounds always seemed to sting more, somehow. Often bloodier too, though this blade had been hot enough to sear the flesh closed.

His skin isn’t the only thing damaged - his tunic is similarly damaged with a miscellany of cuts. His tunic, where he keeps -

“Oh, no,” Zagreus cried, and a hard knot clenched - tight and snarled - in his gut as he fumbled to check the gift he'd received from Thanatos. Snug in his hand, the plush companion's familiar face was as blankly cheerful as always, and Zagreus sighed in relief before he noticed - a tear on the left side, the fabric split. A shockingly white puff of stuffing poked out of the wound.

_Take care of him_ , Than had said.

“διάολο,” Zagreus swore, sparks bursting from his tongue, and he had to jerk his arm out and away to keep from adding singe marks to the list of Mort’s injuries. _He should never have given me something so precious_ , he thought wildly, teetering between anger and despair. He wasn’t even out of Tartarus, and this escape attempt was already going sideways.

Zagreus sank to his haunches and groaned. What a day. Figuratively, of course.

It really was impossible to tell here in Hell.

~

Zagreus found Dusa in the hallway, dusting statues and whistling cheerfully. She squeaked when he greeted her. “Hey Dusa! I don’t suppose you do any… mending?”

“Oh - oh, no, your M-Majesty,” said the little Gordon, tentacles writhing. “Very sorry. I d-don’t know - m-maybe someone with hands?”

“Yes! Of course,” said Zagreus, feeling rather stupid. “ I'll ask around. Thanks Dusa.”

He retreated quickly down the hall, eyes falling to his mentor, ever watchful and guarding. The hero smiled as he approached. “Hello lad. You look like you have a question.”

“Achilles,” Zagreus said, grinning. His teacher knew him well. “It’s a bit odd, but... do you know anyone who can do a bit of mending?”

Achilles tipped his head, thinking. When he spoke, the words were hesitant. “My… partner, when I was living. He was good with that sort of thing. You mentioned seeing him in Elysium… perhaps you could ask?”

~

The soldier by the river barely looked up as he approached, but he did throw out a greeting. It was progress, Zagreus thought.

“Hail, stranger,” said Patrocles, fiddling with a bit of grass.

“Hello Patrocles,” replied Zagreus, and then paused.

“Don’t let me detain you.” Eyes still downcast, the warrior nodded at the door. “Theseus hasn’t stopped spouting boastful nonsense since your last bout. If you can shut him up, I think all would appreciate it.”

"Actually, I have a favor to ask,” Zagreus said, and Patrocles finally looked up. Swallowing, Zagreus pulled Mort out from his pocket, turning the creature to show it’s torn side. “Can you fix this? Achilles said you were good with this sort of thing.”

“I was, once,” said Patrocles. He considered it for a long moment, before shifting to pull two items from a pouch at his side - a needle, and a spool of white thread. He held out his hand. 

Zagreus found himself suddenly reluctant to hand the small companion over.

“Important to you?” asked Patrocles, gently, when the silence stretched longer than was reasonable.

“Ah. Yes, it is.” muttered Zagreus, and forced his clenched fingers to loosen, to surrender Mort to this man he hardly knew. “Sorry. Here.”

“I’ll be extra careful with it, then.”

Patrocles worked with the ease of a familiar skill, but still, Zagreus found himself hovering.

Patrocles kept up a steady stream of quiet commentary - light, distracting words that Zagreus let flow over him as he tried not to fidget too anxiously. 

“I used to tie knots, for fishing nets, when I was young. Bird nets, too, for sparrows. And then in the army, it was a useful skill to do some mending now and then...”

The needle in Patrocle’s dark hands flashed, not unlike a sword, but for the mending. To weave brought to mind the Fates, and not for the first time, Zagreus wondered if their hands had touched his own strings, so messily tangled and tied in knots.

He pushed it from his mind, and focused instead on the familiar shape of Mort - the large ears, and round purple nose. A small companion, but no less powerful for his diminutive stature.

“There you are,” the soldier said finally, and Zagreus reached out eagerly, glad to have Mort’s familiar weight back in his hands. Turning it over, the stuffing had been tucked behind a neat line of stitches, as evenly spaced as bones along the spine, and just as white.

He ran his finger over them. They were solid, and strong.

“Thank you," he said fervently, eyes still on the precious gift. "Really, you have no idea.”

“I might,” said Patrocles, and Zag looked up to see his brow furrowed, though whether in thought or sorrow, he could not tell. “Give my regards to Achilles. He always did like to watch me," and suddenly there was a spark in his eye that Zag had not seen before. And - was that a grin? Small, and gone in a flash. "Do dexterous work with my hands.”

~

“Were you able to get help?” asked Achilles, when he next ran into him in the hall.

“Yes!” said Zagreus. “Thank you. Patrocles said to give you his regards. He was… quite kind, actually. Chatted a bit while I was hovering - said you always liked when he did - how did he put it… oh! ‘Dexterous work with his hands’, that was it.”

“Ah,” said Achilles, sounding a bit strangled. “Yes.”

“He did an excellent job, and I can see why you would enjoy watching - are you okay? You look a bit flush.”

“I’m fine,” said Achilles, gruffly, but there was definitely a blush to his cheeks.

_Oh_ , thought Zagreus, and tried not to laugh.

~

Zagreus kept fighting.

And dying.

When he next returned to his room, Thanatos was waiting for him.

“You stopped taking Mort with you,” he said flatly, without preamble.

“Oh. Yeah.” said Zagreus, and reluctantly pulled Mort from his desk drawer, turning it so that the new stitches were clearly visible. His heart thumped anxiously in his chest. “It got too dangerous.”

Thanatos said nothing, but stared at it intently. Zagreus suddenly remembered, uncomfortably, the week that Mort had been lost. They had been so young, and though Thanatos had not cried, his face had taken on a grim pallor, stiff and unyielding. It was a look Than would continue to cultivate as they aged and grew.

“I’m sorry,” Zagreus blurted, trying to fill the silence. “I should have taken better care-”

“Zagreus,” said Thanatos, and reached over to pluck the companion from his hands, pale fingers running over the neat stitches. “I should have known you would misunderstand.”

Zagreus’ stomach twisted uncomfortably. “I… have?”

“Yes.” Thanatos held Mort out to him, but when Zagreus reached out to take it, Thanatos didn’t release his grip. Their eyes met, and held, the companion between them. “I am not worried about _Mort_.”

Zagreus looked away first, eyes sliding sideways, and Thanatos let go.

“I can take care of myself,” Zagreus huffed weakly, tucking the creature up against his side.

“So you keep telling me.” Thanatos’ gaze flicked downwards. “All the same, I prefer you take little Mort along with you. The new stitching suits him.”

Zagreus shifted, and now it was Thanatos' turn to look away. He spoke in a low voice. “I may not come for you, Zagreus, like the other dead. But I do feel each… death. As you pass.”

“Oh.” Zagreus said miserably. "...I'm sorry."

“I’m not interested in apologies, Zag,” Thanatos said, impatient, and rose - beyond standing, into the air, his scythe swinging into existence with a ghostly sigh.

Leaving, then.

Zagreus' feet stumbled two fiery steps forward. Words crowded his throat, but he couldn't seem to sort them out in time. “I’ll see you out there, then,” he said, instead.

Thanatos looked down at him and, for just a second, his lips twitched into a small smile.

“You and Mort.”

A flash of eerie green light, and he was gone.

~

Zagreus was moping in the lounge when Meg sidled up to his table and helped herself to the bottle in front of him.

"Spill," she rasped. "Your face is longer than the ship of the argonauts."

“I just - Than gave me Mort,” he blurted, and showed the companion to her. Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

“I thought Mort had been lost,” she said, and her voice softened. “I haven’t seen him since we were children.”

“Me too,” said Zagreus. “But I guess they were reunited? Thanatos wants me to take him with me when I…” he trails off. His escape runs have been a sore subject between him and Meg, and he’s hesitant to break their uneasy truce. He tries to skip over it. “I did, for a while, but I've… I’ve already damaged him.” His fingers trace the stitches on Mort’s side.

“Oh? Is that it?” Meg chuckled darkly, shaking her head. “I forget how stupid you are sometimes.”

“What!” cried Zagreus, stung. “If you’ve come here just to make fun of me-”

Meg rolled her eyes and shoved a shoulder into his, jostling and interrupting him. “Than knows when you die, yeah?”

Zagreus frowned. “... yeah.”

"Well, if you have little Mort with you, he can keep an eye on you. He'll know when you enter a chamber, or through the gates to Asphodel or higher. He'll know your progress - not just your death."

She jabbed him in the forehead, hard. "Got it, numbskull?"

Zagreus jerked back, rubbing at the skin, unsure if he was now bleeding. It hurt, but… he felt strangely better.

Megaera glared at him, her dangerously long nails tapping at the side of her glass.

"… got it," he said. “I think.” He scooted the rest of the ambrosia towards her. "Thanks Meg."

~

Zagreus rose from the river, the stygian waters breaking around him in scarlet waves.

The hall held only the flicker of shades, but he wasn't alone. 

He had Mort in his pocket, and Than keeping an eye on him.

“I’m back, Than,” whispered Zagreus, and smiled.


End file.
